Dear Sirius
by Sionna Raven
Summary: Regulus Black writes to his brother at Hogwarts.


September 15th

Dear Sirius,  
I think you got Mum's howler. She's still very upset, in fact she's screaming at everybody. Dad's in his study, hardly comes out for meals. Even Kreacher is hiding in his lair, that's the only good thing about it. How could something like this happen? Never before has a Black not made it into Slytherin. Gryffindor! Better than Hufflepuff, I think, but still. Please write to her, find some excuse, tell her it's not your fault. It is not your fault, is it? You didn't do something to make it happen?  
I miss you; it's frightening to be all alone, with her so angry. Will you write to me and tell me what's up?  
Yours  
Reggie

Christmas

Merry Christmas, Sirius.  
What a pity you don't come home. I was looking forward to it. She's calmed down, I swear.  
I hope you have a good time during the holidays and I'll have the Christmas pudding all for myself.  
Yours  
Reggie

January

Dear Sirius,  
I missed you at Christmas. Not much fun listening to Kreacher singing carols, just kidding. The visit to Auntie and Uncle was brilliant; Andromeda has let me try out her new Nimbus 1000, wow. I still can't land as I should, though. To be honest, I plunged into a puddle of mud right beside Cissy; you should have seen her or heard her. Lucius Malfoy was there, too and she was wearing her best dress to impress him. He tried to act like the perfect gentleman, Scourgify and all that, but somehow it made it all worse, because the mud from the puddle also reacted to the spell. Andromeda sorted it out; she has a hand in those household charms, but Cissy did not talk to me for the rest day. Not much loss, if you ask me.  
Mum and Dad weren't that angry, thank goodness. Mum said something about Cissy being a vain little princess and she should concentrate more on her magic skills than on dressing up for boys. Have you ever heard of an Impertuwhatever, no idea how to spell it, charm?  
She almost back to normal about your Sorting Disaster, so if you write to her don't mention any Mudbloods, please.  
I'm waiting for your owl, tell me all about Hogwarts. I can't wait to go myself.  
Yours  
Reggie

Spring

Dear Sirius,  
You'll spend Easter with your classmate? Mum was a bit upset, when his parents sent the invitation. Why didn't you ask her yourself? She looked up the Potters in her book, declared them acceptable. We're related to them, so she will allow it.  
I so hoped you'd come home. Mum allowed me to fly a bit in the backyard. I'm getting better every day. Dad has put some extra spells on the place to keep away the Ministry. It's real fun.  
School's very hard, isn't it? Do they give you so much homework that you have no time to write back?  
Yours  
Reggie

Kings Cross, June 1972 - Summer at Grimmauld Place - September 1rst 1973

"James said..., James did... You should have seen him fly."

"Eh, Sirius, I..."

"Can you imagine he's got an invisibility cloak? We can go wherever we want without being caught."

"Sirius,..."

"We've been in the Forbidden Forest, you know. He's never afraid of anything."

"He always the first to manage a difficult spell, Prof. McGonagall says he is a natural talent in transfiguration."

"Sirius, I'm glad you..."

"He'll be chosen for the house team in autumn; those Slytherins won't stand a chance."

"But Sirius, Mum said I'll make it into Slythe..."

"Grrrr,... we'll see, you know you can join us in Gryffindor. James says it's a matter of choice. He heard it from Dumbledore, you know"

"Care for a game of gobstones, Sirius or maybe we can try the new Nimbus in the backyard?... Sure, I understand, after you finished your letter to..."

"Look, there's James ... and Remus. C'mon, they found an empty compartment."

„Mum asked Cousin Cissy to look after me on the train. I think I've got to.."

"Well that's your decision, you can drop in at our compartment later... James, Remus, wait!"

When Regulus Black fell into the comfortable seat next to his cousin, he sighed: „If I hear the name James Potter one more time, I'll puke."

Crouched in the far corner of the compartment a slightly older boy with greasy black hair raised his eyes from a piece of parchment he was reading, tipping it every now and then with his wand to correct misspellings and muttered under his breath: „Who won't?"

For a fragment of a second a smile appeared on the face of a tall, blond 7th year while he pushed another roll of parchment, titled 'Counter Curses' towards the black haired youngster.


End file.
